The One Who Loves You The Most
by Alanna official
Summary: Love is more than just an emotion. It's an action, a conscious decision. It's understanding each other on a level that nobody else can and seeing them laid bare and broken but being there to pick up the pieces and reassemble them each time. It's knowing that they might see themselves as damaged or ruined but knowing that they are stronger. Love is so much more, and he loves her.


**Author's Note**

 **This is for howdoyourespond for the Philinda Secret Summer challenge.The prompt was the song The One Who Loves You The Most by Brett Dennen. I hope you enjoy and like the story.**

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She is working silently at her desk when he walks in. He's just recently come back from their failed attempt at reaching Daisy and the feeling of disappointment is still weighing heavily on his chest. Leaning against the doorframe he takes the time to just watch her for a moment, pen scribbling across paper as she signs documents and makes notes on others. The sunlight filtering through the window casts its light upon her making her hair glow amber and he hasn't realised it until now, but he's missed her. Three months out in the field on a stakeout with Mack, it's made him much more aware of the more delicate workings of their partnership. Not to say that he doesn't enjoy working with Mack, he's a great guy and a good partner, but he's not May.

"You gonna stay there and keep staring or are you going to come in?" Her voice breaks through his thoughts grounding him back into the present.

A smile twitches at the corner of his lips as she tilts her head watching him from her desk. The smirk on her lips is enough to beckon him closer, not that he needed much encouragement in the first place. It's been awhile since they've seen each other.

"You look good," he tells her as he perches on the corner of her desk.

She raises an eyebrow at him and he knows what she's thinking. His three months on a stakeout has done nothing for his own personal well being, quite the opposite really. She however, looks stunning in her new 'Director' attire. Gone is the leather jacket - for now - and so currently he's enjoying her dark blue satin silk blouse, a real difference in the styles of 'Agent May' and 'Director May'. The dark fabric of her shirt pulls taut over her arms and stomach as she stretches out in her chair letting out a sigh. Turning back towards him she gives him a questioning look.

"What?" she asks noticing his gaze.

Shaking his head with a slightly dopey smile he can't help the warm feeling that seems to spread through his being.

"Just glad to be back," he says quietly earning himself a small smile.

She's so beautiful when she smiles he thinks to himself, it's a shame the world doesn't get to see her smile enough. But then again, sometimes it is something's rarity that makes it so spectacular.

"So, you going to debrief or are you just going to stare at me for the rest of the day?" She asks with a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

He at least has the decency to look slightly guilty as he shrugs his shoulders in the appearance of nonchalance. The rush of heat to his face he cannot deny and he's pretty sure that she can see it too.

"I think debrief can wait for now," he says with an almost careless attitude.

A raised eyebrow is her only response as she leans back in her chair, arms resting on the armrests. For the first time since his frantic chase to find Daisy started he feels calm. Somehow, just being in her presence just sitting there with May can bring him peace. How she manages to do that for him he has no idea, she just seems to be able to soothe him without even trying. It's part of the reason why they work so well as partners together. The room is quiet, but it's not an awkward or tense sort of quiet. It's comfortable, the type that only comes with knowing a companion so well that you don't need to speak to enjoy each other's company. She can sense his gaze on her as she moves her head to look at him, tearing her own gaze away from the apricot sky in the window as the sun sets. Their eyes seem to lock on one another and the weight of their connection feels heavy. Heavy with all the things they have yet to say to one another and the feelings that they have yet to express. So many things have gone unsaid between them and it's usually caused more harm than good for the both of them. True, they are spies and it's the nature of the job, but they are more than colleagues, more than partners. He's not sure, but at some point they breached the boundary between partners and friends to… Something more? Honestly, he's not even sure how to describe it let alone label it. Melinda always was better at separating things, work and feelings, but he cannot think that she doesn't at least feel a sliver of what he does. Coming back to the base, coming back to her. It's made him realise how closely she is tied to his feeling of home. He'd walked the base and sat in his room, but it hadn't been until he's seen her that he truly felt like he was home. What he'd do without her he has no idea.

"I missed you," he says suddenly breaking the silence.

Her eyes seem to soften at his words as she gives him another one of those smiles.

"I missed you too," she replies quietly looking down as she breaks eye contact.

It's so rare for Melinda May to be nervous that he almost misses the signs. The brief bob of her throat as she swallows and the flash of nervousness in her eyes as her tongue peeked out to wet her lips. Sharing her feelings with others, feelings that really matter has always been something difficult for her. By nature she is a very private person, and he is honoured to be one of the select few who is fortunate enough to be trusted enough by her for her to share her feelings with him. Her insecurities only manage to endear her further to him as he watches her. Is this love? Honestly, the answer scares him a little. It probably scares her too because he's pretty sure that both their thoughts are revolving around the same subject. She may be impassive to others, but he's always been able to read her. Melinda might say that it was a weakness, that someone shouldn't be able to read her so easily, but it's one of the reasons why he loves her. Their silent conversations and all they can say with just a look, it goes beyond being just partners.

"Phil?" her voice breaks him out of his reverie and he suddenly realises that he's been staring.

"Yeah," he replies blinking before focusing back on her again.

"You were staring, again," she looks at him with a quizzical quirk of her eyebrow.

He can feel a rush of heat to his cheeks at her words but he doesn't deny it. _Busted._

"You know you mean a lot to me right?" He asks reaching across the table carefully to touch her hand, her fingers soft and pliable in his own.

She blinks at him, eyes wide as she seems unsure of where he's going but she doesn't refuse his touch.

"I never got to say it back to you but you do," he paused for a moment making sure to look her in the eye as he leans across the desk closer to her. "You mean a lot to me Melinda, a lot."

There is a brightness to her eyes as she smiles at him, a rare smile which he has not seen often enough. A true thing of beauty that could illuminate the world.

"I'm glad," she says back quietly but warmly as she leans across closer to him. Tentatively she reaches up to cup his cheek, his stubble prickling the palm of her hand as he leans into her touch. There is a look of uncertainty in her eyes and he cannot understand how she cannot see how wonderful she is and just how much he cares for her and dare he say it, loves her. His eyes fall upon her lips and he knows that she has tracked the action, nothing slips past her. They are so close now he can feel her breath like a whisper on his lips as they share air. It feels almost like magnetism as they come together, their lips finally meeting. The kiss is tender and slow not driven by the wild passion and haste of youth. They're both older now and this relationship between them has been a long time coming. Built on years of friendship and a history of shared experiences and memories, it's more than just love. It's understanding each other on a level that nobody else can and seeing them laid bare and broken but being there to pick up the pieces and reassemble them each time. It's knowing that they might see themselves as damaged or ruined but knowing that they are actually stronger than they or the world believes. It's holding them tightly together when they feel like one of their shattered pieces is missing and they may just fall apart, even if you might cut yourself on their sharp edges. It's being the one to listen to them when they think they have nothing to say, and keeping each other true to themselves and calling them out when they need to be. It's all that and more, but to put it simply people would just call it love. He loves her, it's simple now and so clear to see. He loves her, and he will be the one to love her the most.


End file.
